There's Blackwater in the Well
by AtreyuSiff23
Summary: Set in the World of Harry Potter, my fabricated character is sent to Hogwarts school and interacts with Harry Potter's Children, as well as the next wizarding gereration. Enjoy.
1. Dear Reader,

Dear Reader,

You'll find that this story is a fictional tale set in the world of Harry Potter. But, I'm not the traditional writer of Harry Potter fan fiction; I intend to make this intriguing. Last time I tried to write a story of this nature, I got one bad comment. One. I hope you won't post offensive or insulting comments, but I will ask for CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. Feel free to comment all you like, but keep it respectful; I will report you lol jk.

Yours Truly,

Atreyu, (Angelus07; I changed my name =D )


	2. Chapter 1: The Salem Letter

As the sun peeked from behind the New England horizon, deathly dark blew in to block it. This was quite unusual for an expectedly dry August morning. The storm may have moved in overhead, but Arson still gripped his chin-up bar in the family's stone garden, seven feet up in the air. Rain began pelting his back and shoulders as the wind gusted harder.

"Dad - must we keep this up?" He shouted down to his observer, his fingers cramping.

"Rain or shine, Arson! You ain't done yet! Give me ten more!" Arvin shouted back up at his son.

Arson sighed, while he struggled to pull himself up another time.

_1...2...3...4_ he counted to himself as his muscles strained and his skin became drenched with not only sweat, but now precipitation as well.

7...8...9... The last chin up always seemed to take the most his strength. Arson believed it to be because he was one away from a hundred. There were often times Arson considered this a cruel exercise by his father's part; he was only eleven after all. By now, however, Arson was used to his father's "boot-camp," style summer training.

"Ten!" Arson shouted, finally releasing his grip on the metal beam, falling to the earth. He landed on both feet, quite easily. This action never failed. No matter how high up Arson was, he always landed swiftly, as if gravity had no effect on him at all.

The rain came down in a pour now as Arson attempted to catch his breath. Arvin smiled, applauding his work.

"Well done, son. We'll increase you reps next week. Now, start on your Kata."

Arson rolled his eyes, rain dripping from every inch of his body.

"One time through and then you can go get in the tub." Arvin coaxed, knowing that Arson never disliked a bubble bath.

Arson clapped his hands together over his head, bringing them down to rest in front of his heart. He brought his energies into his center and let out a shout of spirit, dropping to attention. He may have the black belt, but Arson's father didn't let him stop practicing.

His Kata took only moments, but Arson made sure to make every move fluid and crisp.

He concluded and shouted again, bringing his hands over his head again, pushing his energy back into his center. He went to attention a second time.

"Good. Now go scrub up!"

Arson bolted back into the manner, up the stairs and straight into the third floor bathroom.

As Arvin made his way through the mud to the door, the eye in the back of his head saw something flying in from a distance. He whipped around, with a gun pointing in the interloper's direction. He recognized this avian creature as the raven called Peanut Butter. Arvin rolled his eyes and stowed his gun in its holster, offering an arm for him to land on.

Peanut Butter came down rather easily, his talons irritating Arvin's skin.

"Jeeze, PB, don't scare me like that." He told the bird, stroking the feathers on his scalp.

"What have you got for me today?"

Peanut Butter reached his beak into his wing and produced the day's post.

Arvin pulled treat from his pocket as he took the mail from the raven.

Peanut Butter snatched the treat and flew inside, desperate to escape the down pour.

Arvin slammed the door shut as entered the kitchen, grabbing his morning cup of coffee.

He skimmed the mail, noticing a letter that he never expected to see.

It was addressed: "Arson Blackwater, the Blackwater Mannor, Hidden Lane, 01970, Salem, Massachusetts, USA." The legendary coat of arms stamped on the front of the envelope bore the raven, the badger, the lion and the serpent.

Arvin smiled as he stowed the letter in his pocket, with no intention of telling Arson just yet of the marvelous destiny that awaited him.

Arson scrubbed himself dry as his bathwater spiraled down the drain. He pulled on his pajamas and retreated to his room falling into bed for the day. His silk comforter and his aching muscles made it easier than ever before to drift away and dream.


End file.
